Into the Dawn
by Lassarina Aoibhell
Summary: Cecil's first day as King is a trying one. Falls into my Lucis Ante Terminum arc.


Cecil had known that this day would come. From the time he could walk, he had known that King Odin had chosen him to take Baron's throne in due course. In truth, he had looked forward to this day in some ways, anxious to make changes that would benefit all the people of Baron.

In those wishful days, he had thought to have a longer span of years in which to learn from King Odin. Today, he felt that absence keenly, and the greater absence of not having Kain immediately to his shield-hand.

He fastened the blue and white cloak securely to his shoulders, and donned the simple gold crown that had been handed down in the Baron royal line for centuries. Straightening his shoulders, he made his way through the castle to the Council Room, where the nobility of Baron had assembled to begin the task of formal governance.

Cecil looked around the room, picking out faces familiar to him since childhood. Rosa was standing quietly, well back from the table, awaiting what would be his first pronouncement as king. Cecil saw the Councillors casting occasional furtive looks in her direction, and wondered if they suspected. He had attended Council meetings with King Odin where many of these same nobles had advised his foster-father; now, he felt almost an impostor, standing before the king's chair.

He spoke the formal words calling the Council to order, and took his seat. These thirty Councillors, heads of Baron's noble houses, had sworn their loyalty to him a fortnight past, when the crown had first been placed upon his head. Now, they watched him in the manner a hawk might watch its prey, eager for any sign of weakness that might allow them to press their own advantage.

"What business has the King for the Council today, if I may ask?" The speaker was Lord Vyran, a corpulent mass of a man who had served as Cecil and Kain's tutor the year they had chosen their paths in the military.

"Perhaps I've grown decrepit in my old age," Lord Eltrin said blandly, "but I thought it was for the King to speak first." The Royal Treasurer turned to Cecil and bowed politely. "I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. It has been some time since a formal Council has been called; it seems my peers forget their manners."

"As it happens," Cecil replied, "I do have business for the Council. I call Lady Rosa Farrell to sit on the Council and give her opinion as needed."

Rosa stepped forward to take her place beside him, and he smiled at her. He could hear the collective muttering of the Council, and braced for his first political battle.

"With all respect, Your Majesty," Lord Vyran said, "what claim has Lady Rosa to a seat on the Council? Her House is already well-represented."

Rosa's grandmother, Emily Farrell, rose to her feet at the far end of the table and fixed Lord Vyran with a withering glare. "She's not here to speak for her House, Edwin. She is here to speak as the future Queen of Baron, as you would know if you had listened to the announcements at the coronation."

"I must say, Your Majesty, it is unusual for a future Queen to sit on the council ere the wedding," Alan Marek remarked quietly. He had been the commander of the Dark Knights when Cecil had chosen that path five years ago; since then, he had retired, to run his family's affairs.

"Lady Rosa has proven her wisdom and worth repeatedly," Cecil said. "For that alone, she would have earned the right to sit here. In addition, I have no need of decorations. What I want—and what Baron needs—is a Queen who will work to right the wrongs that have been done by—" He caught himself, barely, before referring to Golbez as his brother. "—by Golbez," he finished, a bit awkwardly. Baron was his home, and Baron was where his family had been all his life—but now he had another family, and though he had thought long and hard on the problem since ascending Mt. Ordeals, he had yet to reconcile the two.

Another round of murmuring went around the table, but no one stepped forward to make a more specific protest. Emily Farrell remained standing. Cecil turned to her. "Lady Farrell, do you have something to present to the Council?" he asked.

"I do, Your Majesty." She leaned harder on her cane, and looked around the table. "Lord Nerthic and I have been busy these past two weeks, compiling a list of those who either took advantage of the impostor's commands, or those who have used the relative chaos of our leaderless state to commit reprehensible acts."

Lord Nerthic passed a neatly bound sheaf of parchment across the table to Cecil. Since retiring from commanding the Dragon Knights, he had taken the post of Minister of Intelligence. Cecil looked around the table before beginning to read. Lord Nerthic had given him an abbreviated version of this report immediately after the coronation, which he had shared with Rosa. Several of the noblemen looked uneasy or downright frightened. He began to skim over the report Lord Nerthic had compiled.

If nothing else, the man was exceedingly thorough; incidents had been documented in exhaustive detail, including interviews with witnesses, and at the end of each incident was a tally indicating the cost in lives and in revenue. Though he had been expecting the numbers to be high, they were almost frightening in total; certainly far beyond the reach of what he or Rosa had expected from the summary. Cecil reached the end and handed the report to Rosa without speaking. She began to read, her expression becoming more distressed with each page.

"Your Majesty," Lord Nerthic said quietly, "what is your will?"

"A moment, please, my lords," Cecil said, struggling for composure. "I would consult with Lady Rosa."

He took her arm and they stepped back from the table, out of earshot of the nobility. Rosa was shaking her head, staring at the numbers tallied neatly by House at the end of the report. "How could they?" she murmured. "What possessed them to do such things to their own people?"

Cecil clasped her hand in his, the only demonstration of affection considered appropriate for them in public. "What should we do about it?" he asked her. "We cannot simply let this go, but...."

Rosa sighed. "But we must be careful in our punishment, so that we don't create greater resentment," she finished. "Lord Nerthic and Grandmother have totaled up a cost here, at the end; let us have each House pay out its fines, and for any lives lost, they must make reparations to the family. It won't bring them back, but i_something/i _needs to be done."

"And we will let them know that this kind of behaviour will not be tolerated in the future," Cecil said, nodding.

They returned to the table, where the nobility had broken into quiet conversations among themselves. The conversations stilled when Cecil reclaimed his place at the center of the table.

"First, know that I do not approve of these actions at all, nor would my father King Odin have approved of them," Cecil said, directing a glare at the noblemen representing the Houses with the most egregious behaviour. "I do not expect to _iever/i_ have to address these issues again, with any of you. This kind of behaviour will not be tolerated." He could scarcely believe that they had acted in such a manner; King Odin had always been one to emphasize honourable conduct. Had they learned nothing in the twenty-five years of his reign?

"Lord Nerthic has included here a listing of the cost of your behaviour, in lives and in goods and money," he continued. "Each House so listed will be required to pay into the Royal Treasury a fine equal to this amount. If you feel the amount is unjust, you may present your case to me. Lord Nerthic, I expect you to be ready to present a counter-case whenever necessary. If your actions have cost the lives of any of my citizens, you will be required to make reparations to their families, in the amount of three years' wages for each person so harmed. These terms are not negotiable," he added, raising his voice to be heard over the muttering. Beside him, Rosa's face was set in an expression of censure. He clasped his hands tightly in front of him to keep from balling them into fists and pounding them on the table. The nobility were, as a rule, quite wealthy; even this reparation was a pittance compared to most of their coffers, and some of them had literally cost i_lives./i_ How dare they protest?

"I do not seek blood for this, but I intend to make Baron into a place where everyone, from the least peasant to myself, is accountable to exactly the same laws and standards. That is final." He took a deep breath. "Any other Council business will have to wait until tomorrow. I expect payment of all fines to be reported to Lord Eltrin within one week. The Council is dismissed with our thanks."

He stood and left the room, Rosa close behind him. The cacophony of voices behind them swelled to an almost unbearable level before the door closed, shutting it out.

Cecil sighed. He very much wished that Kain were here; he could have used another ally on the Council.

Rosa took his hand, and leaned her head against his shoulder. "It will get easier," she said. "And it will all be worth it, when we have made Baron a better place."

"I hope so." Cecil squeezed her hand gently.

"Do you think he'll be back soon?" Rosa asked, and Cecil shook his head.

"I don't know." For a moment, both their gazes turned to the southeast, where Kain had gone to "atone for his sins," as he put it.

A few heartbeats later, Rosa squeezed his hand and smiled. "I have plans to complete for our wedding," she said, and then paused. "I'll come to your room tonight," she whispered, and Cecil recalled when she had said that to him—it seemed a lifetime ago—just before he set out for Mist.

He bowed to her. "I shall await your coming," he murmured back, and she departed.

Cecil only hoped that he could live up to the responsibility placed upon him by both of his fathers.


End file.
